Grande Vanilla Americano
by Chocolate Orchids
Summary: No barista ever managed to get Kid's coffee right. {Oneshot}


No one ever managed to make Kid's coffee right.

Not for lack of trying, though.

Whenever he had entered Deathbucks, whatever unfortunate barista that was on duty would look at him fearfully, having heard the rumors of the boy with three white stripes in his hair and the impeccably precise order, not to mention the allegedly large tip for anyone that got it right. Unfortunately for him, the baristas were all teenaged girls, mostly from the N.O.T. classes at Shishuben. They weren't experienced in their trade or usually incredibly intelligent, but for the normal customer that was fine. Most students ordered black coffee and then spruced it up themselves at the spice bar. For his order, which was slightly more complex, it posed serious problems. He'd always sigh, walk up to the counter, look the usually-scared girl straight in the eye, and without waiting for her to ask would deliver his order.

"One Grande Americano, three shots, zero-point-eight ounces of vanilla flavoring, stirred evenly, heated to exactly eighty-eight degrees Celsius, no whipped cream, and no straw or lid."

Cue the barista - and the rest of the coffeehouse - looking at him and wondering what mental help facility he had just escaped from.

Most commonly the offensive element would be the temperature. Many of the baristas measured in Fahrenheit on accident, and many others weren't sure how to work the steamer on the espresso machine. Not that Kid could blame them; he was sure that he was pretty much the only person in Death City that ordered hot coffee. But his Shinigami senses could tell when it was too hot or too cold, and knowing that the temperature was a number other than eighty-eight disgusted him.

At a close second they forgot to omit the whipped cream. He had never seen any other teenager in Death City – besides maybe Soul, who thought drinking sugary things was 'uncool' – drink coffee without it; many times they added it on force of habit. The fluffy, asymmetrical colloid would always ruin his drink, making it impossible to look at.

There was also that one girl that always put a full ounce of vanilla flavoring into his coffee. And like with the temperature, he could tell when it was wrong. Only occasionally did someone forget one of the easier instructions, like not putting an asymmetrical lid on the cup or that he wanted three shots.

Though he had considered buying a machine for himself, once he saw the asymmetry of the mechanism he decided against it. He could barely stand walking into Deathbucks and seeing all of the curved counters, the randomly placed tables, and that sad excuse for art hanging up on the far wall. To have _it_ invade his perfectly symmetrical home… no. It wasn't going to happen, not until Black*Star started apologizing or Patti decided on having an intelligent conversations with Maka.

But by the time he was sixteen, Kid had given up on ever having a cup of coffee prepared right.

And, as always, the universe had a way of spoiling what he thought to be true.

* * *

"Oi, Kid!" Black*Star called as Kid made his way down the stairs to the DWMA. Class had just gotten out, and the young reaper was more than ready to go home. Against his better judgment, he turned to see the blue-haired meister bounding towards him, Soul walking down the stairs not far behind.

"What is it, Black*Star?" Kid asked impatiently, hoping that their conversation would be brief.

"Well, Godling, today is your lucky day!" Black*Star shouted, looking like he had just given Kid a car and was expecting a heartfelt 'you're the most amazing person I've ever known' speech at any second. Then again, Kid reminded himself, Black*Star usually looked like that.

"Why is that?" Kid asked with a sigh, even though he knew that he should ignore his friend.

"What he's trying to say is that we're taking you to Deathbucks," Soul said, falling into stride beside the young reaper.

"I hate to disrupt your plans, but I don't particularly care for that place."

"They got a new barista, from the E.A.T. classes this time," the scythe replied, a glint in his red eyes. "And you'll definitely care once you see her."

Kid sighed again. He really just wanted to go home; Black*Star and Soul's sense of a pretty girl usually wasn't the same as his own, and for the first night in ages he was going to have the house to himself as Liz and Patti were sleeping over at Maka's. A night of peace, quiet, and a giraffe-free dinner was all he needed, and he was in no mood to be disappointed by another bad cup of coffee.

Somehow, though, he found himself walking with his friends to the right of the stairs, into the Deathbucks, and at the end of the long line of students who had just finished their classes.

_What am I doing here?_ He thought to himself, attempting to avoid looking at all of the asymmetrical waste strewn about the room as the line crept forward. _I hate this place!_

"Hello, welcome to Deathbucks," a slightly weary voice said, snapping Kid out of his reverie. He looked up and saw a girl in the standard black shirt and red apron behind the counter, a name tag on the right side of her chest reading 'Zee'. Kid had to admit that Soul and Black*Star were right; she was pretty. Her figure, like many of the girls in E.A.T. classes, was athletic, and her chocolate-brown hair in a neat braid complemented her creamy skin and gray eyes. More remarkable was her facial symmetry; though not perfectly symmetrical, her right was an almost perfect mirror image of her left. "What can I get for you this afternoon?"

"Grande iced coffee, no syrup," Soul said, leaning against the counter and giving her what Kid assumed was his best toothy grin. She didn't appear to notice, or was perhaps just very good at ignoring him, before looking at Black*Star. He also shot her a grin before replying.

"A star like me doesn't need coffee! I have enough energy to power the world single handedly for a year!"

"You don't say," Kid muttered under his breath before looking up at the girl. "I'll have a Grande Americano, three shots, zero-point-eight ounces of vanilla flavoring, stirred evenly, heated to exactly eighty-eight degrees Celsius, no whipped cream, and no straw or lid."

The girl met his golden eyes skeptically, raising an eyebrow before entering his order into the machine as well. Her eyes then caught his hair before quickly roving the rest of his torso. Kid could almost swear that he saw a light blush on her cheeks as she took a cup from the dispenser and wrote something down quickly on the side, him assuming that it was an abbreviated version of his order.

"So, one Grande iced coffee and one Grande vanilla Americano, right?" she clarified, looking up at him again.

"Right," Soul replied, nodding once.

"That'll be ten-eighty five, please."

Black*Star and Soul looked to Kid and pulled out their empty pockets out to demonstrate their need for him to pay. Kid groaned mentally. He was going to have to pay for Soul's drink too? Though money had never been a concern of the reaper, this was just annoying.

Or, as the scythe would say, this was uncool.

"Here," he sighed, putting his credit card on the counter. She swiped it quickly, pressing a few more buttons before nodding and handing it back.

"Alright, your drinks will be ready in just a few minutes," she said as she moved toward an espresso machine. The three boys sat down at a table, waiting for their orders to be ready. Kid shut his eyes; the grains in the wooden table curved differently, no two even _slightly_ alike.

It was like this place was _trying_ to get him to hate it.

"Grande black coffee!" the girl called over the ruckus of the bustling coffee shop, and Soul stood to claim his drink. Perhaps she would only forget the size, Kid reassured himself while he waited. No, that was just as bad as everything else; only a Grande had sixteen ounces, and eight went into sixteen, unlike twelve and twenty.

"Grande vanilla Americano!"

Kid stood and walked over to the counter, picking the cup up. Well, it was the right size as well as no whipped cream, and also no lid nor straw. At least she got that right.

He sat back down at the table and took a sip of the drink, hoping that it wouldn't be as bad as the last coffee he'd drank. His stomach lurched just thinking about it. As the liquid hit his tongue, however, he realized suddenly that it was the right temperature. But that was impossible. It hadn't happened once since he had ordered his first cup at age eight.

_Here goes nothing,_ he thought, resigned, before taking a true sip.

Then he tasted the ratios of flavoring to coffee. He could tell that they too were right, and he looked over to the barista in slight awe. It was about then that he saw the black pen marks on her arm, even from several yards away. He snorted, half in amusement and half wondering why no one else had ever thought of doing that, before finishing the coffee in a few sips.

After excusing himself from a relatively boring conversation with Soul and Black*Star, mainly revolving around some band he had never heard of, he stood and headed towards the door. Just as he was about to throw the cup away, he noticed a number. A small, plain number on the corner of the cup, but a number nonetheless. Turning the cup slightly, he saw that it wasn't just one number, it was seven.

It was a phone number.

And, right underneath was the single letter, 'Z' in small, cursive font.

Kid smiled to himself and glanced back at the barista, who was helping yet another of the endless customers. She caught his eye and blushed, red coloring both of her cheeks evenly.

_Maybe_, he thought as he walked out of the shop, cup in hand and a slight smirk on his face,_ maybe coffee isn't so bad after all._

* * *

**I decided to stick this at the bottom, so as not to ruin the story.**

**First: I don't own Soul Eater, or Death the Kid... though I really, really wish I owned Death the Kid.**

**Second: well, anyways, I couldn't sleep and I suddenly I got this question; how does Death the Kid order coffee? How do teenage baristas get it right? How can I incorporate an OC into this?**

**So, I got on my laptop and typed this up at midnight. First oneshot, so tell me what you think!**

**(Constructive criticism is not 'welcome'; it's begged for ^-^)**


End file.
